You Don't Have to Go It Alone
by gleefan13
Summary: He might not be brave enough to save himself but some days he thinks that he could maybe be brave enough to save her. Warning: Deals with child abuse
1. Part 1

**A/N: This is a fill for a prompt from the Glee Angst Meme.**

_**Part 1**_

When Sam shows up to school on Monday with a black eye it doesn't take long for the rumour mill to start churning. By the time Glee club rolls around at the end of the day, the half-hearted 'you should see the other guy' answer he had given to someone that morning has morphed into an epic tale involving him taking down an entire gang who were, depending on who you talked to, trying to rob a convenience store, trying to rob a bank, or trying to steal the purses of an entire group of old ladies at a bingo hall.

"Is it true that you're getting a medal?" Finn asks the other boy with a look of awe when he comes into the choir room.

"Umm…no," Sam responds, taking his seat quickly, not exactly sure what to say. The truth is that he doesn't want to talk about how he got his black eye. Unfortunately, that's pretty much all anyone else wants to talk about.

"I heard you went all badass superhero on those thugs and that they didn't stand a chance," Puck grins.

Before Sam can tell Puck that, no, he certainly did not go badass superhero on any thugs, Brittany interrupts. "If you're like…Supersam why don't you wear your underwear over your clothes?"

"Eww, gross," Santana rolls her eyes. "The thought of you defending old ladies is actually super sexy though," she adds, moving her chair as close to his as possible. "Is it true that one of the gang members ran away crying because he thought you were going to swallow him whole?"

"What?" Sam asks, moving his chair away from her, he's really sick of all the references to the size of his mouth. "That's just…no, okay. There weren't any old ladies or gang members involved at all." He says with a tone that he hopes will put an end to this discussion, of course that's too much to hope for.

"So then what happened?" Mike asks, seeming genuinely curious.

"It was nothing exciting, okay." Sam answers, trying his best to keep the irritation out of his voice. "Can we just let it go already?"

"You realize that we're not going to leave you alone until you spill, so you may as well just tell us now," Quinn smiles at him. "Think about how annoying Rachel can be when she wants something."

"Hell, think about how annoying Rachel can be all of the time," Santana adds.

"I'm right here," Rachel crosses her arms huffing. "I do want to know what happened though, Sam."

Sam sighs. They really aren't going to leave him alone. "It's not exciting. It's embarrassing okay…I walked into a wall."

Sam looks around at the other glee kids after he says it, most of them are laughing or trying not to laugh, Finn looks disappointed, and Brittany looks like she's thinking really hard. Brittany's reaction puzzles Sam but he doesn't have to contemplate it long because she speaks up.

"So your mom hits you?" She asks, though it sounds more like a statement than a question.

The room goes quiet after that. Most of the glee kids are giving her standard 'what the hell are you talking about' looks but a couple of them are looking at him and he tries to keep his face neutral even though his thoughts are screaming at him. How could she have possibly come up with that? After the silence goes on for a good minute more people start to look at him and he knows they're waiting for him to say something. "No Brittany, that's not what I said." he stammers out, hoping it doesn't sound too defensive. It isn't really a lie. After all, it _isn't_ what he said. Besides, it's not his mom who hits him. This thought has his heart hammering so hard in his chest that he's sure that everyone else must be able to hear it. He really needs this conversation to end now. Today isn't his day though.

"He said he walked into a wall," Rachel reminds Brittany.

Brittany just nods in agreement at Rachel's statement. "They mean the same thing though," she says, like this fact should be clear to everyone.

"No Britt," Artie tells her gently, "they don't." He nods for emphasis when she gives him a look like he's the one who's grown three heads.

"Ya," Finn adds, "parents don't hit kids."

Finn's naivety is usually charming but right now it makes Sam want to bury his head in his hands. Parents maybe shouldn't hit kids, but they certainly do. All Sam wants to do is leave the room and have this conversation be over, it's making him really uncomfortable, but he can't leave because that would be a dead giveaway that something is wrong and he can't have that. No one can know.

Instead, he watches Brittany who looks more confused than he's ever seen her look. She's gnawing on her lip and shifting nervously and it's almost like she's trying not to say something and suddenly it clicks. Right now she's confused because she knows what Finn has just said isn't true. After all, why would she jump to the conclusion that walking into walls was just an excuse unless, like him, she had used it herself once too often? It makes no sense to him that Brittany, who believes in Santa and magic combs, has this secret, his secret, yet, just like that, he's sure that it must be true.

He watches as she opens her mouth to speak and he wonders what she is going to say, if she will be brave enough to say what he never manages to. She doesn't get to say anything though because Mr. Schue walks in and starts today's meeting and just like that everyone forgets what has just been said. He's sure they'll just chalk her comments up to Brittany being Brittany and that will be the end of it. This realization should be a relief, after all, he doesn't want anyone to find out his secret, but it doesn't feel like a relief at all, it just feels like a weight on his chest. He was already struggling to keep his secret and now he will be struggling to keep hers too. Maybe he'll talk to her. Maybe he'll talk to someone. He just doesn't know.


	2. Part 2

_**Part 2**_

In the weeks that follow, as he likes to refer to it, the black eye fiasco, Sam spends a lot of time thinking. He thinks about a lot of stuff, he thinks about what it would be like to not have to come home every night and count the empties in the trash bin trying to gauge how his evening is going to turn out, he thinks about what it might feel like to not live in constant fear, he thinks about what the words 'my dad hits me' might sound like if he were able to speak them out loud, but mostly he thinks about Brittany.

On the particularly bad nights, when the pain keeps him awake, he wonders if she's lying awake somewhere too. On those nights he goes over and over the things that she said that day in the choir room. He wonders why no one else seems concerned with her likening walking into walls with being hit. To him it seems like the kind of logic you should be concerned with, even if you account for the fact that you can't take half the things Brittany says seriously. Then again, Finn lives under the delusion that parents didn't hit kids, so maybe it isn't so surprising. Of course Sam has to admit that there is always the possibility that he is reading too much into it, maybe he's just jaded and has jumped to all the wrong conclusions. For that reason, he frequently almost manages to convince himself that he imagined the whole thing but then he only has to remember the look on her face when Artie told her that she was wrong and he goes back to square one.

He doesn't know why he can't let it go, but he can't. It's probably because thinking about her going through what he goes through makes his heart ache and his stomach twist in knots. It's one thing to do nothing about what's happening to you, but to do nothing when you suspect that something bad is happening to someone else is a completely different story. He might not be brave enough to save himself but some days he thinks that he could maybe be brave enough to save her.

The problem is that saving her requires talking about things that he doesn't like talking about, things that scare him to just think about talking about. Talking about him and talking about her are two completely different things though, and so he decides that if he gets the opportunity to talk to her alone, he will, it's the right thing to do. Of course, deep down, he knows that he's only come up with this plan because Brittany is rarely alone and the likelihood that he will ever actually have to follow through with talking to her about it is pretty small. However, it must be fate or something because two days after he decides on his plan, he comes across her alone, in the library of all places. He didn't even know that she knew how to read, let alone where the library was.

He takes the seat across from her and she looks up at him and he smiles at her. "Hi Brittany, what are you doing?"

She smiles back at him. "Reading. This book is pretty interesting."

He looks down to see what she is reading and realizes it's the dictionary and that she's got it upside down. He decides not to point that out, for all he knows maybe she's excellent at reading upside down. Heck, some days he feels like he might have just as much luck reading upside down as he does right side up, who is he to judge. "Cool."

"What are you doing?" She asks him, tilting her head to side.

"Oh, umm…" Sam pauses, wondering if he's going to chicken out. "I just saw you and I wanted to talk to you about something."

"Oh okay." Brittany nods, staring at him intently.

"Brittany…" He hesitates a moment, taking a breath a breath before asking, "Do you walk into walls a lot?" It isn't exactly what he had wanted to say but it's close and he can settle for that.

She just shrugs. "Not a lot."

He almost sighs with relief, maybe he had made everything up, but then she continues.

"Only when I'm being really fru…" she's scrunches her brow up in concentration, "frustrating." She beams at him, clearly proud that she has remembered such a big word.

His heart sinks, maybe he was right after all, being frustrating doesn't sound like a common cause of walking into walls, it does however sound like one of the many reasons his father gives him when he's knocking him around. Of course he still doesn't have any proof that anyone is actually hurting her so, even though he can feel his heart starting to race and his palms getting sweaty, he manages to prevent his next question from sticking in his throat. "Do you mean your mom hits you?"

"That's what I said isn't it?" She tells him, her eyes brimming with confusion.

That's all the confirmation he needs and his heart beats even louder in his chest. He's not sure what he was thinking starting this conversation. He's not sure where he wants it to go. "Ya, I guess it is," he finally says and he wonders if she'll see the admission in his agreement. If she does, she doesn't let on, she just smiles brightly at him again and he can't help but wonder how she can possibly seem so happy when she's just admitted that her mom hits her, even if it's 'not a lot'.

"Oh good," she nods. "I thought I got it right."

He smiles at her in reassurance even though he kind of feels like he might puke. Who could ever hit somebody as sweet and innocent as Brittany is beyond him. It turns out suspecting and knowing that someone is hitting her are actually very very different. Now that he knows for sure, he knows that he needs to do something. "Have you ever told anyone about this?"

She thinks about his question a minute before answering. "Sometimes if I have a bruise Santana asks where I got it and I tell her."

Now he's puzzled, surely Santana would have done something if she knew that Brittany's mom was abusing her. "What exactly do you tell her?"

"That I walked into a wall." She tells him in a tone that, if it was anyone else, he would assume was implying that he should know this.

He sighs, rubbing his sweaty hands against his jeans. It's starting to seem clear that she truly believes that saying you walked into a wall is equivalent to saying that someone hit you, which means that she hasn't just been using that as a cover up like he has. Following that logic, he also comes to the conclusion that she doesn't even realize that what's happening to her is wrong. At this thought his stomach clenches again. It's one thing for him to not be able to reveal a secret about his home life, it's another for her to not even realize that she's keeping a secret. He needs to help her. "Hey Brittany, I think I need to talk to Mr. Schue, will you come with me?"

She looks down at her dictionary and back up at him. Closing the dictionary, she smiles and nods. "Sure. I can finish this later."

"Great." He nods, ignoring how quickly his heart is beating, and gets up. Maybe if he can save her, there's hope that someday he can save himself.


	3. Part 3

_**Part 3**_

It doesn't take long for Sam to lead them to Mr. Schue's office. He takes a breath and looks over at Brittany, hesitating only a moment before knocking. He has to do this for her, he has to get her help. He tries not to think about the fact that she's standing there oblivious to the fact that he's about to force her to do the one thing that he can never manage to force himself to do. He wonders if she'll hate him for it.

Mr. Schue answers the door pretty quickly, he looks a little startled to see them standing there but he recovers quickly, smiling at them and asking them to come in. "So what's up guys?"

Brittany looks up, "um…the ceiling I think."

Sam can't help but smile a bit at her answer but remembering why they are here, the smile quickly disappears. He shuffles his feet and stuffs his hands in his pockets. "We were talking and there's something I think you need to hear."

Mr. Schue nods and smiles at Sam encouragingly.

Sam turns to Brittany and initiates a nearly identical conversation to the one they had just had in the library. "Do you walk into walls a lot?"

She doesn't seem bothered by the fact that he's asking her the same question he asked her not fifteen minutes ago. "No, only when I'm being really frustrating." She gets the word right on the first try this time.

Sam looks quickly back at Mr. Schue, seeing the confusion flittering across his features, before turning once again to Brittany. "And when you say that you walk into walls, you mean that your mom hits you, right?" He prompts her and, even though he knows the answer, he holds his breath. A part of him can't help but wonder if with Mr. Schue here she'll lie about it, but of course she doesn't, she's not him.

"That's what I said isn't it?" She looks at him with the same confused look she had given him in the library earlier. This time however he doesn't answer her question, instead he turns to Mr. Schue, whose expression has gone from confusion to worry.

"Brittany," Mr. Schue asks carefully, "I just need to be sure I understand right, okay. You're saying that your mom hits you?"

Once again Sam can't help but expect her to deny it and his stomach flutters nervously.

Brittany just nods and adds a "yes," in confirmation though.

"Oh Brittany," Mr. Schue sighs, his expression grim. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

Sam jerks his head quickly back to her at that statement. He doesn't know why he didn't think to ask her that himself, considering the mass of bruises currently littering his own torso, it's a question that he should have known to ask.

"Umm…" Brittany looks uncertain.

"Do you have any pain? Err…maybe bruises?" Mr. Schue tries to clarify for her.

Brittany nods and when she doesn't do anything else, Mr. Schue prompts her again. "Can I see?"

Sam holds his breath as Brittany lifts her shirt up to reveal a cluster of bruises on her left side. He sighs, her words had been enough for him, he hadn't needed anymore confirmation, yet now he had it.

Mr. Schue takes a step towards her and it seems like he's debating hugging her but instead he just says, "It's going to be okay now, I promise."

"What's going to be okay?" Brittany asks, clearly confused.

Mr. Schue looks to Sam then, as if he's trying to confirm that she really doesn't know what is going on. Sam just shakes his, not sure what else to do.

"Never mind, it's okay." Mr. Schue tells her. Fishing through his wallet, he pulls out a couple of dollars, handing them to Sam. "Why don't you two go get something from the vending machine and then come back here?"

Brittany seems oblivious to what is being implied but Sam is pretty sure he knows that Mr. Schue is sending them away so that that he can call social services or something. He feels nervous at that thought but doesn't really know why. He tries not to think about, instead focusing on Brittany who practically skips to and from the vending machine.

When they return to Mr. Schue's office, Mr. Schue is sitting behind his desk and he's shuffling a deck of cards. He smiles at them but the smile doesn't quite reach his eyes. "You guys want to play a game?"

"Yes," Brittany grins, seemingly not bothered by the fact that they are supposed to be in class right now.

An hour and four games of Go Fish later Mr. Schue gets a call and he leaves the two teenagers in his office. Twenty minutes later he comes back with a woman who Sam can only assume is from social services.

"Brittany, this is Mrs. Granger, you're going to go with her okay?" Mr. Schue tells the blonde.

"I'm not supposed to take rides with strangers," Brittany says, shifting nervously. Up until now she hasn't shown the slightest signs of distress but Sam can tell that she's quickly becoming anxious, like it's finally occurring to her that something out of the ordinary is going on.

Without even thinking about it, Sam reaches over and takes her hand, squeezing gently. "It's okay," he reassures her, "she's not a stranger. You can go with her."

It takes a minute but Brittany seems to relax somewhat. "Okay Sam." She says getting up. If only he could reassure himself as easily as he could reassure her.

After a quick exchange with Mr. Schue, the woman leads Brittany out of the room and just like that she's gone. Sam's shoulders slump forward and he sighs. He's saved her right? He's done the right thing? When she's finally realized what's happened, she's not going to hate him, right?

The bell ringing startles Sam and he looks up at the clock. "It's time for glee." He says it without even really realizing it.

Mr. Schue nods, "I guess it is."

"Are you going to tell them?" Sam asks him.

"I think I have to," Mr. Schue sighs in response.

xxxxxx

When Mr. Schue and Sam enter the choir room, everyone else is already there. Sam takes his seat without making eye contact with anyone, he doesn't feel like faking a smile right now, and waits for Mr. Schue to start talking.

"I've got some not so good news I need to tell you," Mr. Schue addresses the group.

"Shouldn't we wait for Brittany to get here?" Artie asks looking around as if he expects her to appear.

"The news is about Brittany," Mr. Schue sighs. "She's been having some problems at home."

"What kind of problems?" Quinn asks.

Mr. Schue sighs again. "Abuse."

At that word the room goes so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. Sam does know why but he can't bring himself to look around and see his classmates', his friends', expressions.

Finally, Rachel speaks up, "are you sure?"

"What do you mean?" Mr. Schue replies clearly confused.

"It's Brittany." Rachel pauses before continuing. "Are you sure she's not just confused? A couple weeks ago she thought that babies come from Storks and she's been known to believe in Santa Claus and magic combs. So are you sure that she actually meant to say that she is being abused? Are you sure that she even knows what that means?"

Sam has to literally bite his tongue to keep from snapping at her. How could she think that? It had never occurred to him that people could not believe Brittany. He wonders if people would believe him if he told them he was keeping an almost identical secret.

"I'm sure," Mr. Schue says in a tone that leaves no room for discussion.

The room seems to explode after that, everyone asking questions and demanding answers so loudly that no one person can really be heard. It's making Sam dizzy.

"Guys, guys, slow down," Mr. Schue raises his voice above all of theirs. "One question at a time."

"What's going to happen to Brittany now?" Mike asks quietly.

"She'll stay with me," Santana declares firmly.

"Wait," Artie protests, "She's my girlfriend, she'll stay with me."

"So what," Santana rolls her eyes at the word girlfriend, "she's my…she's my best friend and she'll stay with me."

"Guys," Mr. Schue interrupts the argument that is unfolding. "I'm sorry but Brittany is a minor so, unless either of your families are registered and approved to foster children, she won't be able to stay with either of you, at least not immediately while they're sorting out what's going to happen now."

"So they're just going to what, give her to strangers?" Santana asks, the anger clear in her voice.

"Well…" Mr. Schue sighs. "Yes."

"This is stupid," Santana crosses her arms. "Where is she? She's going to be scared, I need to see her."

"I'm sorry Santana," Mr. Schue tells her, "but a woman from social services already came. She's already gone."

"Whatever," Santana huffs, "this meeting is over right?"

Mr. Schue nods and she storms out. Everyone but Sam filters out fairly quickly after that, he doesn't feel like he has the energy to move.

"Sam?" Mr. Schue puts is hand on the boys shoulder. "You did a good thing today, don't doubt yourself okay?"

Sam nods in response, wishing it were really that easy.

xxxxxx

Brittany doesn't show up to school for three whole days after that and it's agonizing. Artie looks like somebody kicked his puppy the whole time, Santana practically growls at anyone who so much as looks at her and they have to keep her from attacking Rachel on a daily basis, Finn looks confused most of the time like he still can't really grasp the idea that a parent would hurt their child, and Puck's fist are always clenched like he's trying very hard not to put his fist through a wall.

As far as Sam is concerned, time has never passed more slowly. He's pretty sure he doesn't sleep at all for those three days. He just lies awake every night and wonders where she is and what she's thinking. He needs to see her desperately, needs to know that she is okay and that he has done the right thing.

When on the fourth day she shows up at school word spreads to the glee club rather quickly and within ten minutes they are all congregated around her locker. Sam stands at the outskirts of the group, needing to see her but not sure what her reaction to him is going to be. He watches as each of the girls and Mike hug her, as Finn shuffles awkwardly from foot to foot, as Puck bumps her on the shoulder with his fist affectionately, and as Artie takes her hand.

"Where have you been Britt?" Artie asks her, making himself the spokesperson for the group.

"They won't let me go home," she tells them all and she looks so sad that Sam can't help but wonder for the millionth time if she's mad at him for getting her taken away from that place, he refuses to refer to it as her home if only because it assuages some of the guilt.

He's so busy musing to himself that he misses whatever gets said next but he picks the conversation back up as Brittany keeps talking.

"..and I got a new name, Foster, but everyone is still calling me Brittany so maybe it's not actually my new name but an atlas."

"Alias?" Santana corrects automatically.

"Yes," Brittany nods smiling. She watches Santana carefully a moment before she speaks up again. "San?"

"Ya Britt." Santana responds, her voice gentle, the way it only ever manages to be for Brittany, and Sam notices that she's standing impossibly close to the other girl, they're not touching but if either of them shifts even a fraction of an inch they will be.

"Does your mom really feed you every night? Like not just when I come over but every night?" She asks with nothing but curiosity reflected in her voice and in her eyes.

"Fuck." Santana says out loud exactly what Sam is thinking. His life is seriously screwed up and nothing should shock him but the things that Brittany is saying make him want to scream or maybe cry. Even now, she's just so innocent. It's just not fair that she had to go through that. He knows then that it doesn't matter if she is mad at him, he did the right thing.

Brittany waits expectantly until Santana eventually answers her question. "Every night. She feeds me every single night."

"Good," Brittany beams at her, "because moms are supposed to do that." Her eyes are wide as if this fact is shocking to her.

Sam's stomach twist into knots again and he watches as tears spring up in the corners of Santana's eyes. It seems like he's not the only one reacting to things that Brittany is saying, not that he's about to point that out out loud.

He watches as Brittany, seeming satisfied with what Santana has told her, scans the group in search of something. It isn't until her eyes lock with his that he realizes that she's looking for him. They just stare at each other a moment and he can feel his heart start to beat faster.

"Sam," she takes two steps towards him. "I've got to tell you something important."

His throat is dry and he swallows. "Okay." He manages to get out. This is it, if she's mad at him, he's about to find out.

"Saying you walked into a wall isn't the same thing as saying your mom hit you," she tells him, her tone of voice serious. "So you have to say it the right way. You have to tell a grown up that your mom hits you and then they can make it stop because nobody is supposed to hit you ever, no matter what you do." She gives him a small encouraging smile. "So you just have to say it, okay, and then it will be all better."

Everyone's eyes are on him now, he's sure of it, he can feel them even though he can't look away from her. He'll never think of her as oblivious again. She figured it out, well she'd gotten the mom part wrong but still, she knows. No one has ever even come close to guessing before, well except for her that day in the choir room but that had been accidental.

He can feel his chest tightening and he's finding it hard to breathe and he wonders if he's going to pass out. _You just have to say it_. Maybe it can be that easy. Maybe with her standing there encouraging him, her eyes locked with his, it can be that easy. _It will all be better. _He opens his mouth and prays that the words don't stick.


	4. Part 4

_**Part 4**_

He opens his mouth but he closes it just as quickly. He can't really do this, who is he kidding. The thing is, the thing has always been, that even though he knows he should say something, shouldn't let what happens to him continue, he just can't do it. Why that is exactly, he'll probably never fully understand, he's given up trying to understand, but the fact remains that telling has never really felt like a real option.

"You just have to say it okay?" Brittany tells him again when he doesn't say anything for an extended period of time. Her eyes are wide and she's nodding as if to say 'I know it sounds crazy but I promise it will work.'

"I…" Sam tries to speak but he's at a loss for words. All he can hear is the sound of his heart beating in his ears. Is this what a heart attack feels like, he wonders?

"What's she talking about Evans?" Puck asks.

Sam slowly breaks eye contact with Brittany, turning to look at the other boy. Puck is looking at him gruffly but underneath it there is a look of both confusion and worry. "I…" Sam still can't form words and so he just shakes his head, not exactly sure what this headshake is supposed to convey.

"San…he has to say it. You're not supposed to get hit, not ever, it's not okay. Why won't he say it?" There is desperation mixed in with the confusion in Brittany's voice and that is almost enough to make Sam break.

"Are you trying to say that someone is hitting him?" Santana asks the blonde and when the other girl nods vigorously the brunette turns her attention to him. "Sam?"

Why can't he breathe, he wonders? "I…" there are still no words.

"Sam, lift your shirt up," Santana demands and when he meets her eyes there is something about the determination he finds there that terrifies him.

He panics then, looking around slightly erratically. His torso is covered in bruises, some fresh, some old. Showing is just as good as telling and he's not sure he can do that either. His breaths come in almost gasps and he prays for a way out of this mess.

"Sam are you okay?" Quinn asks with concern, seeming to notice that he's struggling.

"I…" he sighs.

"I wasn't kidding," Santana tells him. "Lift your shirt up or I'm going to do it for you."

"Santana," Rachel chastises, "Don't you think that's a bit extreme? We're in the middle of a hallway."

Santana rolls her eyes at Rachel. "We can move to the choir room if he wants but he's lifting up his damn shirt. I'm not letting another…" she trails off, not finishing her thought, but Sam's pretty sure he knows what she's thinking because she's looking at Brittany with what appears to be guilt.

Sam can't do anything but shake his head again. Santana apparently takes this action to mean both that he doesn't want to move and that he's not going to lift up his shirt because, before he can do anything to stop her, she reaches forwards and jerks his shirt up before quickly letting fall down again.

There's a collective gasp and what sounds like an "Oh, Sam," from Quinn. He can't look at any of them, he doesn't want to see the looks on their faces, he's ashamed.

He just continues to stare at his feet until he feels a warm hand slip into his own. Slowly he looks up and his eyes meet Brittany's. For the second time today he finds himself unable to look away from her.

"It's going to be okay," she whispers to him. "You can say it now."

He concentrates on the feel of her hand pressed firmly in his, on how blue her eyes are, on how, even though they're in a busy hallway, the only sound he can hear is his heart beating, and the words finally form. "My dad hits me."

As the words leave his mouth, all he can think is that they sound so normal. After years of keeping himself from saying them out loud, even when he was sure he was alone, he assumed that they would sound strange coming from his lips, but they don't. In fact, for how normal they sound, they may as well be any four words strung together. Except they aren't normal words, they aren't normal at all, they change everything. Suddenly he's sobbing, not sort of crying but full on, gasping for air, sobbing.

Brittany moves quickly throwing the arm that isn't holding his hand around him. "It's okay," she reassures him, pulling him tight against her. "It's all going to be okay now. You don't have to be scared."

Sam doesn't notice that Santana has moved forward until she wraps her arms around both of them. "She's right. We aren't going to let anything bad happen to you anymore."

Puck steps forward next. "Ya man. Don't worry, I'm pretty scary and I've got your back." Sam is shocked when the other boy then proceeds to join in on the hug.

After that, Sam somehow finds himself in the middle of a glee group hug, everyone offering reassurances and support. No one moves until his sobbing quiets.

When the sobbing does stop, they peel away slowly until the only one remaining is Brittany. She's still holding his hand and, when their eyes meet again, she gives him a smile. "See, it's okay now."

He nods at her and attempts to return the smile. He knows that someone is going to tell Mr. Schue and then social services is going to get called and that nothing in his life is ever going to be the same again but right now he's not thinking about that. What he's thinking about is that it's sort of poetic or something, he saved her and now she's saving him.

Maybe she's right, he's going to be okay. They'll both be okay.


	5. Part 5

A/N: Okay so I sat down to write something that certainly was not this but this is what came out instead. It's a sequel/follow up/I don't know what to call it to so I'm just going to call it part five and tack it on on the end here.

**Part 5**

Sam gets the call at two o'clock in the morning. He fumbles for his phone without even bothering to open his eyes and nearly drops it as he tries to raise it to his ear. When he finally manages to get the phone in the correct position, he mumbles hello into the mouthpiece, though he's pretty sure that, given the sleep induced fog around his brain, it doesn't come out sounding even remotely like hello.

There's heavy breathing on the other end for a minute before a string of words he can't understand come spewing out. Though he can't seem to comprehend the words, he recognizes the voice saying them and he can't help the immediate worry that courses through him. He sits up in bed then, opening his eyes and squinting into the darkness, not really seeing anything.

"Santana? Slow down, I don't understand you." He says into the phone, as the fog around his brain quickly dissipates.

The girl on the other end stops speaking mid word and he can hear her sigh before she starts again, more slowly. "She's…you've got to come, she won't stop."

Sam is already swinging his legs out of the bed before Santana's even finished. He answers her while he quickly pulls his jeans on. "I'll be right there." He pauses a minute, remembering that he no longer has access to a vehicle. "Just give me thirty minutes and I'll be there."

Santana sighs again and, as if she suddenly remembers that he's going to have to walk to them and that it's the middle of the night, she tells him. "No wait, it's far and it's late. Maybe you can just talk to her."

Sam shuffles the phone while he pulls a shirt on, bringing it back up to his ear, he answers while he slips his shoes on. "Is it as bad as last time?"

Santana doesn't say anything for a minute but finally she tells him, "worse," the word coming out in a breath of air.

"I'm coming." His answer is firm, leaving no room for discussion. "Just sit tight okay?"

"Okay," Santana mumbles and he's pretty sure she's on the verge of tears.

It's sort of strange, knowing this side of Santana, the vulnerable side, a side that he'd hadn't seen once when they were dating but that lately he's been seeing a lot of it. "I'll be there soon." He tries his best to reassure her, before hanging up.

Sam slides his phone into his pocket and quietly slips out of the house, hopping he won't be missed. It's still weird, living with strangers. Not that they aren't nice, because they really are a sweet couple, but he just never knows how they're going to react and it puts him on edge constantly. Sure his living situation had been far from ideal before, far far from ideal actually, but he'd always known where he stood at home, knew that he had to be careful because the end result of screwing up was always certain. Now, now he just doesn't know what to expect and it's a hard feeling to get used to. It's like he's constantly waiting to do that one thing that's going to tip his foster parents over the edge.

He sighs to himself, kicking at the ground, knowing that, in the end, it doesn't actually matter how his foster parents end up reacting to him leaving so late at night because he needs to get to Brittany and that's the only thing that truly matters. He knows that even if he had been living at home he still would have risked the punishment and snuck out to go to her now, when she clearly needs him. Truthfully, they've become quite dependent on each other and he knows that there really isn't anything that he wouldn't do for her or likewise that she wouldn't do for him. There's something about what they went through, what they are both still going through, that connects them on a level that no one else will ever really understand.

As he walks, Sam tries to guess what's happened with Brittany tonight, what has Santana so clearly shaken. Not that there's much guessing actually needed, this late at night it's most surely a nightmare, but for Santana to sound the way she sounded on the phone he knows that it must have been a bad one, a really bad one.

He sighs, thinking of how he and Brittany have almost switched roles recently. It's not that he's not plagued with his share of nightmares, because he is, it's just that at first she had been so stoic, his rock, seemingly providing all of the comfort while not needing any for herself. That day in the hallway, while he wept, she had just held his hand and smiled and later while his secret was relayed to Mr. Schue and then to the Department of Children and Family Services she didn't let go of him, not once. She gave him the support and the courage that he'd desperately needed in that moment without even blinking, even though she was going through so much herself.

Originally, she had seemed so unfazed by it all that it had been strange the first time he'd gotten a call from Santana, shortly after Brittany had moved in with her, saying that Brittany was freaking out and refusing to eat supper. That night Brittany had had the first nightmare, or at least the first nightmare that any of them were aware of, he's sure that, like him, she'd probably had them before that. He's especially worried tonight though because he thought that Brittany had been making progress, that she was finally settling into a routine at Santana's house and he had hoped that Santana's parents officially being given permanent custody of her last week would further ease the worry and fear that seemed to plague her.

Then again, perhaps the finality of the custody arrangements is actually the root of the problem. He knows that, even if she doesn't really know how to express it, Brittany is having a hard time with the fact that her parents gave up custody of her so easily. Sure they, especially her mother, had been absolutely terrible to her but, despite that, they are still her family and when she speaks it's clear that she still loves them. To have them so clearly not love her back is a kind of painful that Sam can only imagine. The problem is only compounded by the fact that she didn't even understand until recently that the way they treated her was not okay and so she never had a clue that they didn't feel about her the way that parents usually feel about their children. The whole thing is especially bad for her too because, according to his DCFS social worker, the goal when a child is removed from their home is supposed to be, where possible, reunification but Brittany's parents hadn't even attempted to fulfill the requirements that DCFS had set out for them to get her back, they had just willingly signed over custody to the state.

He can only imagine what it feels like for her, knowing that they didn't fight for her, because his dad has actually had the opposite reaction as Brittany's parents. His dad is fighting for him, fighting hard, which is why Sam is now sitting in what he likes to think of as limbo, or what most people call foster care. He hasn't seen his dad yet, they aren't allowing that at this stage, but apparently he has quit drinking, is going regularly to AA meetings, and is taking anger management courses. DCFS is putting all kinds of hoops in front of him and he's jumping through all of them, he wants Sam back and he's doing his best to make sure that happens.

Sam's not really sure how he feels about that, a part of him wants to believe that things really could change, that he could go home and not have to worry about being on the receiving end of one of his father's violent outburst ever again, that they could be a happy family like they were before his mom died. That part of him is the part that still loves his father, he _is_ his father after all, and that part of him is also most likely the part that kept him from saying anything for all of those years. The other part of him however, is sceptical that anything could ever really change. That part of him worries that going home would just mean going back to living in fear and pain and that speaking up, saying those words that had been so hard to form, will have done nothing but anger his father more.

All in all, comparing his and Brittany's situations, he really doesn't know which is worse, having your parent fight for you, knowing that you might have to go back to a situation that could not actually change at all, or having your parent give you up that easily, knowing that they really didn't care about you. It's a lot to think about, too much to think about really. It's the kind of stuff he knows that teenagers shouldn't have to even consider but it's the kind of stuff that's on his mind all of the time.

He tries to keep his mind clear for the rest of the walk, wanting to be level headed when he gets to Brittany because he'll be no good for her if he's upset too. When he finally makes it to Santana's house he climbs the steps and approaches her front door but he hesitates there, unsure if he should knock this late at night. He doesn't have to make a decision though because as soon as he reaches the door, it swings open and Santana is standing on the other side.

Santana lets him in and Sam pauses a moment putting his hand on her shoulder and squeezing gently. She looks absolutely worn down, like the weight of this whole situation is crippling her. He knows she's been trying so hard to make everything better for Brittany and, to a lesser extent, for him, but it really isn't that easy. Stuff like this, what happened in his house and what happened in Brittany's house, well there's no magic wand you can wave to make it go away.

"She's in my room." The dark haired girl finally whispers, pulling away from him, her eyes laced with worry.

Sam nods and makes his way to the staircase, quickly heading up to the second floor to where the bedrooms are, Santana trailing behind him. When he swings the partially closed door to Santana's room open, he spots her immediately, she's sitting in the center of Santana's bed with her back against the headboard, her knees pulled tightly to her chest and her chin resting on them. She's staring at the bedspread but even still he can tell that her eyes are red rimmed and puffy and he's sure that if she looked up that he would find tears there. He doesn't hesitate, striding quickly over to the bed and sliding in beside her, while Santana remains standing in the doorway. He sits so that his side his pressed into Brittany's and he feels her immediately lean in towards him. Her head tilts ever so slightly and her gaze shifts from the bedspread to his feet.

"You're alive." She whispers and then her chin leaves her knees and she's looking right at him. Tears spill out of her eyes but she smiles a bit. "You're alive." This time the words are a little louder and her voice carries a mixture of relief and disbelief.

He's slightly puzzled by her reaction, having fully expected the problem to be related to her parents, but he smiles back at her the best he can. "Of course I'm alive silly."

"You're alive," she says again, this time the smile lighting up her whole face, despite the ever present tears. "You were…" she pauses, more tears rolling down her cheeks and the smile fading, "you died."

Sam wraps his arm around her shoulder and pulls her even closer to him. "In your dream I died?"

Brittany nods, sniffling. She doesn't say anything for a minute but finally the words come tumbling out in a quick succession that he has a hard time keeping up with. "You were my brother and we lived with your dad and my mom and they…they hurt you really really bad but I couldn't help you." She takes a gulp of air, sniffling again. "I tried Sam, I really tried, I promise…but they just kept hurting you and then you…then you died. You wouldn't get up." She takes another shaky breath before continuing, her words quieting down to a whisper. "They hurt you and I couldn't save you."

"Oh Britt," he whispers, hugging her with both arms. "I'm alive. Nobody hurt me."

She pulls back so that she's looking him in the eye. "You're alive but somebody did hurt you." Her words are solemn.

Sam nods, it's true and he can't deny it. "Somebody did hurt me but you saved me remember? You got me help and I'm okay now."

"You promise you're okay?" She asks him, clearly still worried.

He sighs, it's not like years of fear and pain can just disappear overnight but she knows this, probably better than anyone, and doesn't need to be reminded of that. "It's going to be okay. We're both going to be just fine." He settles for telling her.

"But…" Brittany starts but she stops, uncertain.

Sam looks over at Santana then, who's still standing in the doorway as if she needs permission to enter her own room and he nods his head slightly, indicating that she should join them.

Santana hesitates only a moment before she steps towards the bed, climbing in and taking a seat on Brittany's other side. She laces her fingers with Brittany's squeezing gently. "He's right you know. It's going to be okay." Her voice is filled with determination and she meets Sam's eyes across Brittany's head, making it clear that her message isn't just for Brittany. "Nobody messes with Santana Lopez and I'm not going to let anyone hurt him or you. Never again, okay. Never again."

"Okay." Brittany whispers, letting her head drop onto Sam's shoulder and clutching tighter to the hand that Santana has a firm grip on.

As Brittany's eyes begin to droop, Sam realizes that he isn't going anywhere tonight. Truthfully, he wouldn't have wanted to leave anyway because right here, right now, even with the uncertainty of his fate looming, it really does feel like it's going to be okay.


End file.
